Robert Vickers - Tied up wife

She felt as if it was going to pop at any second. It was filled with aroused blood, blood so excited she could hardly stand it. The nipple was paining her greatly. And when his finger pressed it down into the soft, marshmallowy flesh underneath, she had to gasp in horror.

He was intent on hurting her. Maybe even maiming her. She couldn't deny that possibility because he was so furious with her. He was in such a rage, he might do anything. Anything at all.

Even tie her up and rape her like he'd said he would.

The thought made her cunt gush out its thick, heavy fuck sauce. She tried to keep her legs tightly pressed together so he couldn't see the telltale wet spot spreading all through her crotch. It was no use. That was the first thing he did.

He pulled her apart like yanking the wishbone on a chicken. She was aching now from the muscle strain of the unnatural position. But she didn't dare cry out. That would only encourage him.

"So you're getting turned on by this, huh? You stupid cunt, I'm gonna really fuck you."

Kneeling on one leg and holding her other to the floor with his hand, he ran his zipper down and pulled out his half-stiff prick. The man was slowly getting a boner. As the horrified woman watched, his prick jerked aloft one slow inch at a time.

It was like a bird being hypnotized by a snake. She didn't want to watch, yet she did. It was fascinating. She had to stay there and watch every instant of it because of the way he held her pinned down. And her eyelids somehow refused to shut.

She was a captive of this brutal man. And there was no way of telling what he was going to do to her. No way in hell!

"You've got to be taught a lesson, bitch," he said. "You've been acting so high and mighty, I'm gonna take you down a notch or two."

Why was she excited by those words? She felt her cunt convulse weakly, a flood of fuck fluids oozing from between her pussy-lips. She tried to tense up and keep her cunt-lips closed to that betraying flow, but she wasn't able to do it. The tide of her passion was simply too high – higher than it had been any time since she'd met Matt.

His fingers reached out, and undid her jeans. He began ripping the thick, heavy denim off her body. He didn't seem to care if she was being hurt or not. His fingernails cut into soft, tender flesh several times. The rough fabric scraped her skin when he finally succeeded in getting it around the flare of her ass.

Her cunt was now widely exposed to his lusting gaze. The pink pussy-lips were rimmed by a forest of black pussy fur, now wet from her excitement.

A finger shot into her cunt as he held her down. "Damn, you're so fucking wet, it's a crime. You enjoy this, don't you, you cock teasing bitch!"

She managed to grab his wrist, the wrist driving the linger deeper into her twat. She jerked hard and felt the finger flex inside her agitated pussy. But she managed to get him off balance. With a powerful shove, he toppled to the floor and she was free.

Sprinting fast, she ran to the dining area. She didn't want to be seen like this, half naked, the blouse hanging in tatters from her shoulders. She wanted to get her coat on and flee. To get away from the enraged man was all she could think of.

And then she went tumbling down in a heap as he executed a perfect tackle. His arms wrapped around her legs, just above the knees and his shoulder drove in hard. She couldn't stand under that impact.

"You bastard!" she cried. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"Shut your face or I'll shut it for you! You know why. You've been putting me down for a long time. It's just taken me this long to figure out what it'll take to fix you but good. You're gonna like this, damnit, or I'll keep fucking you till you do!"

His arms picked her up and dumped her on the dining table. She flopped like a fish out of water and only found herself in worse trouble than before. Each of her legs was caught up by one of the man's arms. He held her as if she were a wheelbarrow. In this position, she couldn't hope to get away from him.

Hands with clawed fingernails came up to scratch. He easily caught her wrists and a piece of rope appeared. A loop around one, then the other, and her hands were securely tied together. He bent forward and fastened the rope to something over her head, perhaps one leg of the table.

"That should hold you," he said, his face flushed from the exertion.

She was still struggling against her bonds. The more she fought them, the tighter they became. He had been masterful in his fixing of her bindings. And with the way his arms held her legs, this kept her hips off the table. She couldn't get the proper leverage to fight him off.

She began sobbing with frustration. This wasn't the way it was supposed to work. She was so damned helpless! No matter what he wanted to do to her, he could. And from the look blazing in his eyes, he would!

"Now isn't this a pretty sight to set before the king?"

"You bastard! You Goddamn, cocksucking bastard! Let me go!"

"No way, chickie, no way! I'm gonna have the first good fuck since we came up here. And you can't stop me. That's what's gonna make it so good. I can please myself and not worry the fuck about you!"

She shuddered as she looked down and saw his thick, knobby-headed prick nearing her gaping pussy-lips. He held her wide open. She couldn't turn or move to avoid the massive crown of his cock as he poked forward and entered her. He didn't even try to be gentle. He rammed balls deep all the way up her seething cunt. She had to scream in pain. He was too big.

Too big!

His prick spread her soft inner membranes to the breaking point. She hadn't experienced such pain since she'd had her cherry popped. His prick stretched her in every direction. Just as she thought she was expanding enough to take his huge girth, he pulled out.

And that was almost as bad as the sudden, raping entry into her cunt. She gasped at the suction he formed behind his cock. It felt as if he were dragging her guts out.

She cried openly now. The hunger in her cunt was being stroked by the man's driving, fucking cock. Rut it wasn't the softness she had come to enjoy – even hate. He was virtually raping her. She didn't want him fucking her like this, certainly not with her hands tied over her head.

He bent her into an arch that made her tits collapse onto her chest. She had to gasp for air every time she sucked in a breath. Her hands were going numb from lack of circulation. And her cunt burned. Oh, how her cunt burned from that fucking entry he'd made!

"Stop it! Why are you doing this to me?"

"You know. Goddamn, you stupid cunt, you should know by now!"

She felt his prick surge back into her. She didn't want this. She didn't want him forcing sex on her. And yet she found herself even more excited by this than before. The chase had been brief, but it had turned her on in a big way.

And now she couldn't stop him from fucking her. Before, she knew who was in control – she'd been. Each time they'd fucked, she was the one who had been calling the shots. And she had begun hating the man for it. She had figured he was too easily manipulated. She could make him do anything she wanted simply by withholding sex and denying his cock entry into her mouth or asshole or cunt.

No longer. He knew what he wanted and he was taking it. And she loved him all the more for it. Even while she was hating it, what he was doing, what he stood for, she loved it.

Confused, tears rolled unashamedly down her cheeks. She tried to brush them away, but she had forgotten her hands were securely bound to the table on which he was brutally fucking her.

His grip on her ass had tightened. As long as he didn't let her put her hips on the table, she couldn't possibly have any control at all over the fucking. She couldn't move from side to side, she could lift up and cram her snatch down around his impaling spike of hard-driven cock.